Shine now bright mythril-wrought sword
Heaven’s great glory without demise
Hammered of fiery-eyed Hephastos’ great furnace and anvil
Fashioned into slender purity by the ancient races now forgotten.

It has been said that Thy Word is a Sword and a Light
And know I by its growing flames that never diminish
As it burns in my soul it reduces chaff to nothing
But makes firm iron yet sharper.
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